


I Would Battle for You (Even if I Break in Two)

by itaru



Series: A3! Rare Pairs Week 2020 [2]
Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Childhood Friends, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Pining, Sharing a Bed, and itaru's sister and tangerine, except izumi and tonooka, most of the side characters are made up, oh the innocence of youth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:26:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25256134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itaru/pseuds/itaru
Summary: “You want us to date?”“Fake date.”
Relationships: Chigasaki Itaru/Citron
Series: A3! Rare Pairs Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1832218
Comments: 18
Kudos: 62
Collections: A3! Rare Pairs Week 2020





	I Would Battle for You (Even if I Break in Two)

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively an Itaru character study camouflaged as a citoita fic, and my entry for Day 2 (July 14th) of A3! Rare Pairs Week 2020, today's prompt is Sleepover. I was originally planning on posting this for the final day since the sleepover scene is short, but alas, I couldn't wait.

Being Citron’s best friend was a badge Itaru wore with pride, except maybe in times when Citron’s crazier ideas got the better of him.

“So are we gonna do it or not?” Citron poked him repeatedly on his waist, resulting in Itaru sighing with as much strength as he could muster after a long day of school.

“You want us to date?”

“Fake date.”

“Not that I care but,” Itaru nodded slowly, the small smile on his face almost mocking, “You know that’s social suicide, right?”

“I don’t care!” Citron whined, “I’ve seen enough TV to know that if we do this my stalker will definitely give up!”

“Good thing you don’t have a stalker, then.” Itaru stretched his legs, the old benches on the school ground were getting more uncomfortable to sit on each passing year.

“Okay, so I don’t have a stalker,” Citron admitted, “But I’ve been receiving love letters on my locker.”

“Receiving love letters and having a stalker are two very different things, y’know…”

Citron pretended not to hear Itaru’s comment, instead dramatically throwing his face into his hands, “Oh, I’m just so bad at rejecting girls!”

Itaru laughed, “True. I still remember back in primary school when that one girl from Class B confessed to you and you dated her for like three months because you weren’t able to turn her down.”

“Exactly, oh!” Citron wailed, “Which is why we must pretend to be dating!”

“Absolutely not.” Itaru deadpanned, cold smile on his face.

“Oh, but Itaru!” Citron cried out again, holding unto Itaru’s arm as he resorted to his final tactic – the dreadful, and at times incredibly effective, puppy eyes.

Itaru sighed loudly in exasperation, a couple of girls who were walking by sneaking some not-so-subtle glances towards them as they whispered between themselves, probably wondering what all the commotion was about.

Citron waited until the girls had passed before opening his mouth again, “Itaru, what do you have to lose? I’d be the best boyfriend you’d ever have!” Citron winked, “I’ll treat you like a prince!”

_ What do I have to lose? Lots of things, _ Itaru thought to himself.  _ For starters, my pride. _

But the cold, stern truth was that his pride didn’t mean half as much to Itaru as protecting  _ certain _ secret feelings he had for his best friend, and making sure they never saw the light of day.

Their friendship begun a late summer afternoon many years ago, no parents home, no homework to do. Itaru had been holed up inside his bedroom, playing on his much beloved Nintendo DS, when his sister had kicked him out and insisted he go play in the neighbourhood’s playground “like normal children do”. The short walk to the playground had been agonising, not only were his fingers aching to go back to his game (or at least to run back just to get the chance to save before the battery of his poor DS ran out) but the evening’s last rays of sun were particularly strong that day, so much so that when he finally got to his final destination, Itaru could swear he was sweating blood (he wasn’t).

“Normal children, my ass…” He had muttered under his breath as he had gone to have a seat on one of the many empty swings, feeling grateful at least that there was no one else in the playground at that hour. That meant he could sit in peace and fantasise about saving a certain princess character from a certain evil boss.

Yes, Itaru Chigasaki, with sword in hand, fearlessly crossing the most gruesome of terrains and battling the most heartless monsters, earning the trust of comrades and peasants alike, and nicknamed Itaru The Great by everyone in the land – No! Itaru The Brave! Yeah, that’s much b-

“Hi!” 

Itaru had blinked. The slow realisation that someone had talked to him hitting hard when all he’d wanted was to just sit uninterrupted while daydreaming about video games.

He had turned around in annoyance, but the big smile that had met his eyes was one that had changed his life forever.

Itaru didn’t believe in love at first sight, but the way his heart beat at the sight of Citron back then and even ‘till now, and the way that the years passed and said boy was still the only person Itaru ever really wanted to be around, made him believe that maybe this was something akin to it.

And be it either because Citron was the only person who got him, who really understood him and saw Itaru for who and what he really is, or be it because it had been a convenient friendship where both so happened to share a passion for games, either way, they were inseparable.

Citron claimed he knew Itaru like he knew the palm of his hand, and to some extent, maybe he was right. He certainly knew Itaru better than anyone else. But if there’s one thing he didn’t know, and would never know, it’s just how much Itaru  _ loves _ him.

Enough to even go along with his not-so-thought-through ideas.

“Well,” Itaru contemplated out loud, fondling his phone in his hands, “It’s true I’m already at the bottom of the social ladder…”

Citron nodded enthusiastically, looking a little too excited over where this was going. Itaru continued, “But I don’t know what I’d get out of this.”

“I’ll do anything you want me to!” Citron exclaimed, his response so quick it almost sounded rehearsed.

“Anything?”

“Anything!”

“Sweet, I’ll take you up on that offer, then.” 

Itaru extended his hand, and Citron shook it joyfully as he spoke, “Oh, Itaru! Thank you! Okay, let’s discuss the rules!”

“Rules?” Itaru stopped shaking his hand.

“Yes, rules!” Citron continued shaking his hand, “Every perfect fake dating scheme needs a good set of rules, no?”

“Says Mr. Rule-Bender himself…”

“Rule number one!” Citron exclaimed, ignoring Itaru’s comment again, “We have to hold hands often!”

Itaru could feel himself blushing as he pulled away from Citron, the mere thought of holding hands enough to make his heart race in his chest. He was used to Citron having little sense of personal space and the very frequent hugs that came with his friendship, but  _ holding hands _ ?! Itaru wasn’t sure he could do that without melting into the largest puddle of goo imaginable.

He cleared his throat, “Sounds a bit extreme, no?” 

“Oh, would you rather we kiss?” Citron’s smile was alluring as his face got closer to Itaru’s. 

Itaru nervously tried to scramble for any words, but nothing left his lips. His eyes trailed slowly from Citron’s pale blue eyes down to his pretty lips that always looked so…  _ kissable _ . “Just kidding!” Citron suddenly laughed, pulling away as he did so, “I won’t steal your virgin lips’ first kiss.”

“Okay, ouch,” Itaru’s face turned into a scowl, “You don’t have to say  _ that _ out loud.”

“Okay so, rule number two!” Citron held two fingers up in the air, “We won’t tell our families about this.”

“Duh.”

“And rule number three! Hm… Any suggestions?”

“How long will we have to do this for?”

“Oh, yes!” Citron tapped his chin theatrically, “Next week’s the school festival, right? So I propose we date ‘till then.”

“Fake date,” Itaru corrected Citron swiftly, the other boy nodding his head in agreement, “But sounds fair. Won’t you be too busy to fake date me if you’re on the committee for that, though?”

“Don’t you worry, Itaru, I’ll make plenty of time for my boyfriend!” Citron winked, and Itaru tried his best to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat at Citron calling him his  _ boyfriend _ . The autumn wind picked up as a breeze passed by, cold enough to prompt both boys to finally get up and away from the old wooden bench.

“Right, you’re staying here to help with festival prep, right?”

Citron sighed dramatically, “It is but the duty of the class presidents to help organise all school events! Oh, if only my boyfriend would come help out, as well.”

“Hard pass,” Itaru held up a hand, “I’ve got a game waiting for me at home.”

“We only just started dating and you’re already cheating on me? Oh, my heart pain!”

Itaru snickered at Citron’s absurdity, his best friend’s playful demeanour always made him smile, even if involuntarily, “‘Kay, I’m heading home.”

“I shall go tend to my duties, then! Bye-bye!”

Itaru smiled to himself as he stood still, watching Citron walk back into the main school building, his friend waving his arm as he disappeared through the doors. Itaru gave a short wave back before turning around to leave, the road to his house no longer than a fifteen minute walk when he walked with purpose, usually masked behind the sole need to play a game (or two) as soon as he got home.

“Oh, you’re finally home,” His sister spoke as soon as he opened the front door to his house, the smell of her feminine perfume hitting his nostrils hard, “What took you so long?”

“What are you doing here?” Itaru answered with a question, because quite frankly – he was already annoyed.

She sighed, running her manicured fingers through her long hair, “We’re off the rest of the week, and I was getting tired of instant ramen. Mum’s cooking really is the best after all, huh…”

“You gotta be kidding me,” Itaru scoffed as he slipped into his indoor shoes, “Can’t wait ‘till I can move out and live off of only junk food.”

“You’re so ungrateful.”

Itaru only muttered  _ Yeah, yeah _ , as he walked past her, fingers itching to play some good ol’ fashioned  _ Fallout _ . He didn’t get very far before his sister spoke again, Itaru keeping his back turned towards her as he secretly rolled his eyes at her every word.

“I heard your school’s holding a festival next week.”

“Oh?” Itaru turned around, icy eyes behind his thickly framed glasses, “Are you planning on going?”

“You know what I mean. Besides, I’m only staying ‘till Sunday.”

“Ah. Well, thanks but no thanks. I’m not interested.”

“Listen, if you wanna rot away while playing video games be my guest, but you should think about others once in a while. I’m sure Citron would love for you to go, you know.”

“Pretty sure Citron can speak for himself.” Itaru didn’t bother hiding the tension in his voice before disappearing into his room, leaving his sister alone at the entrance. 

_ Damn it,  _ he thought to himself as he slung his bag on the bed, his black pencil case rolling out after the impact,  _ Now my evening is ruined. _

As was customary of the Chigasaki household, whenever his sister was visiting, Itaru would spend an even more unusual amount of his day and subsequent evening holed up inside the safety of his room, which offered him a sanctuary away from the nuisance his sister could be. 

He spent a good amount of hours playing  _ co-op _ with Citron, and when his friend had to finally go offline to tend to his nightly chores, that is, helping his younger brothers get to bed at a not-so ungodly hour, Itaru spent the rest of his night watching a livestream before slowly drowsing off to sleep.

Morning rolled around, cold and bleak, and the wind so strong Itaru’s scarf barely did it’s supposed job of keeping him warm and protected. He walked down the street with shivering teeth, cursing the wind and hoping it wouldn’t turn into a storm – which could potentially mess with his wifi connection and impede him from getting any real gaming done come the night. 

As he turned the corner into a new row of houses, a sense of warmth washed over him as he reached Citron’s house, his friend leaning on the short fence as he waited for him.

As soon as their eyes met, Citron waved enthusiastically. 

Itaru held up his cold hand in a greeting motion, quickly shoving it back between his crossed arms as if to keep himself warm, “Morning.”

“Good morning, yes!” Citron beamed, “Let’s go!” They walked slowly, neither in any hurry to get to school, “Last night’s episode was really good, wasn’t it?”

“It was seriously good. Still hate the main character, though.”

“Oh, Itaru,” Citron slumped his shoulders dramatically, “He’s only twelve years old!”

“Annoying. Don’t like him.” 

Citron laughed, “Anyway, now that we’re way out of sight from my house, let’s hold hands!”

Itaru averted his gaze in hopes that Citron wouldn’t catch him blushing, “There’s girls from our school behind us, though.”

“What’s the point of fake dating if no one knows about it?” Citron pouted, “I need my stalker to know I’m taken if this is gonna work.”

“Right.” Itaru nodded.

He could hear the girls behind them talking loudly about a game show they’d watched last night, their laughter echoing down the otherwise empty street. He cleared his throat, pulling his left hand away from the warmth of the fabric of his coat, letting it hang next to Citron as they walked. He shyly bumped their fingers together.

Citron’s smile brightened as soon as he saw this, wasting no time in interlacing their fingers.

Was it Itaru’s imagination, or did the girls behind them suddenly get quiet? Itaru would’ve dwelt on that for longer if it weren’t for Citron’s hand in his, their cold hands nearly a perfect fit. 

Citron’s grip was determined and strong compared to his own dangling fingers. He was scared if he gripped too tightly, he might not ever want to let go.

“I told everyone in the committee that we’re dating, by the way.”

“You work fast.” Itaru tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, painfully aware of how his heart was pounding up and down faster than should be humanly possible.

“Soon the entire school will know!” Citron exclaimed as he threw his hands up in the air, yanking Itaru’s arm with him, “And then next step – world domination!”

“As long as our families don’t find out.” 

Citron nodded, pulling their arms back down, “As long as our families don’t find out.” He agreed.

Senka High School was by no means a prestigious school, but it prided itself in it’s mostly well-behaved students. 

Sometimes Itaru was jealous of Citron’s class. While he didn’t know his friend’s classmates that well, he knew they were nothing like the loud and obnoxious group he had been cursed to share a classroom with.

And so, sometimes Itaru really hated lunch break, as well. Everyone seemed to erupt into loud chatting and laughter once the classroom was teacher-free and everyone could be left to their own devices. Usually he’d escape to the roof, or to one of the worn benches, and sit there with Citron as they had their lunch, but with being busy with the preparations for the school festival, he had been left with no choice but to spend lunch time dreadfully alone.

He watched carefully as two of his classmates, Itou and Ogawa play-wrestled, shoving each other with no care in the world, certainly not caring about the possibility of hurting neither themselves, nor innocent bystanders such as Itaru, in their little game. It didn’t help that Itaru was seated in the middle of the classroom, watching in silent fear as Ogawa shoved Itou a little too close towards his direction. 

“Woah–“ Itou exclaimed as he clumsily tripped between his untied shoelaces, Itaru flinching as Itou awkwardly stumbled towards his table.

“Oi, watch out…” Ogawa said a little too uncaringly, his body stiff as he watched the scene unfold before him, doing absolutely nothing to help his friend.

Itou’s lanky arms flailed until his right hand miraculously found Itaru’s table, shoving the table with his weight a little as he regained his balance.

Itaru tried his best not to glare at the pair, which wouldn’t have mattered either way because neither of the boys as much as spared a glance towards him.

Itou held up his hand, “Sorry.” He said to Itaru distractedly before swiftly resuming his game with his friend, flinging himself with full force towards him.

_ Jerk.  _ Itaru thought to himself as he finished his bento, silently wishing Citron wasn’t so swarmed with duties right now. Citron was the only person in the world who could make school tolerable.

“Guys,” Kunugi, another classmate, peeked into the classroom, her nails long and manicured, “Did you know that Fujitaka sensei is leaving?”

“What? Leaving?” One of the two girls who were still in the classroom spoke up.

“Yeah, he’s moving away, apparently.”

“Ugh, good,” The second girl grunted, “I never liked him.”

“Aw, don’t say that!” Kunugi booed, “He’s better than the other teachers, that’s for sure. Anyway, Tonooka–,” Kunugi shifted her attention to a boy with short, spiky hair, who’d previously been laughing and Itou and Ogawa’s antics, “Should we all go storm his office?”

“What, why?” Ogawa grumbled.

“Nah, she has a point,” Tonooka said, “Let’s go, guys.”

_ Damn, Tonooka,  _ Itaru thought to himself,  _ Your crush is showing… _

“Okay, okay.” Itou shrugged, both him and Ogawa following Tonooka, the boy already standing by Kunugi’s side. He almost looked like a puppy. The two other girls in the room followed suit, Sakamoto, the classmate who wasn’t very fond of their teacher apparently, glancing quietly over to Itaru as they left the classroom. He caught her eyes on him for a second before looking away quickly.

_ Good, it’s finally quiet in here.  _ Itaru sighed, the emptiness of the classroom ringing in his ear as he rested his head on his hands. Peace and quiet was good, peace and quiet meant he could think about games uninterrupted, he could think about last night’s anime episode, or he could even think about the way Citron’s hand had felt on his that morning.

But instead, Itaru’s thoughts trailed down the school’s old corridor, all the way to the teachers’ office, where he could do nothing but imagine his classmates’ faces as they stood gathered around their teacher, chatting, laughing, having fun. 

Itaru shook his leg nervously, feeling stupid for even caring.  _ I don’t even like Fujitaka sensei. _

The rest of the day passed by slower than Itaru had wanted, relief washing over him with the sound of the final bell ringing. He gathered his things quickly, throwing and shoving them inside his bag, some loose papers getting ripped in the process.

When he got to the entrance, Citron was already there, by his locker, waiting for him, visibly pouting.

“Hm?” Itaru said as he switched shoes, “What’s wrong?”

Citron held up a pink letter in front of his face, adorned with a flashy, pink heart sticker in the centre of it, “I received yet another love letter!” He wailed, “Oh, Itaru, I don’t like breaking girls’ hearts.”

Itaru glared at the letter, “What does it say?”

“I don’t know,” Citron’s mouth formed into the shape of a small o, “I’m too scared to open it,” He wrapped his long scarf around his neck, folding the ends around his hands as the pair walked outside, the wind icy.

Itaru turned to face Citron, whose face was buried deep into his scarf, “Hold my hand?” Itaru smiled, suddenly feeling braver than he had felt that morning. Or maybe he was just angry at the pretty, pink letter Citron had shoved into the pocket of his coat and Itaru simply just wanted to assert dominance, mark his territory.

A  _ haha, stupid letter! Citron is  _ my _ fake boyfriend, not yours!  _ kind of thing.

Citron cheered, interlacing their fingers just like he had done that morning.

“Your hands are seriously cold.”

“Oh, yes,” Citron fake-sobbed, “Which is why I’m glad I have,” He raised his voice, “My boyfriend!” He lowered his voice as he turned back to face Itaru, smile on his face, “To hold my hand.”

“Very subtle work there…” Itaru wanted to scoff, but he couldn’t help the smile on his face.

“Why, thank you.” Citron said. They got as far as the school’s gates when Citron came to a sudden halt, gripping Itaru’s hand a bit tighter, “Today was the release of the limited edition  _ KniRoun _ figure set, right? Wanna go check it out?”

“Ah– oh, right…!”

Citron narrowed his eyes, “You didn’t forget, did you?”

Itaru didn’t know how to tell him that, yes, the past twenty-four or so hours his mind had mostly been spinning around thinking about how he was now suddenly fake-dating his long-time best friend and secret crush. And yes, for the very first time in many years, he’d only thought about _KniRoun_ _once_ in the span of those twenty-four hours. Alright, maybe twice.

“No true  _ KniRoun _ comrade would ever forget that,” Itaru lied, “I just thought you’d maybe be too busy with prep for the school festival.”

“Not today,” Citron hummed, “Let’s go!”

Their favourite hobby shop was, of course, the biggest one in town. As soon as the pair entered the facility, they headed straight for the stairs that led underground to a sizeable room filled with manga, novels, and figures and plushies of several franchises. 

“Look!” Citron pointed to the new limited edition _ Lancelot _ figure, which had conveniently been placed on the first row of shelves, being the first thing you’d see once downstairs. Citron grabbed the first box he could see, holding it up to Itaru’s face, “He looks so much better than in pictures!”

Itaru’s eyes sparkled too, “Damn it, one day,  _ Lancelot _ !” He shook his fist, “You  _ will _ be mine!”

“We’ll be rich!” Citron shook the box lightly, looking deep into the  _ Lancelot _ figure’s dead eyes, “We’ll get you out of here someday! We promise!”

“Ha…” Itaru sighed, watching as Citron tearfully placed the box back to it’s rightful place on the shelf, “Can’t wait ‘till we finish high school. I wanna have enough money to buy this entire shop.”

Citron nodded, walking down the rows of shelves, “Me too,” He stopped to grab a giant  _ Pikachu _ plushie, testing it’s plumpness, “But I don’t wanna have a boring job.”

“True,” Itaru pondered out loud, “If I could, I’d play games for a living.”

“In that case,” Citron hugged the  _ Pikachu _ , “I wanna be a dancer!”

“A dancer, huh…” 

Every year, Itaru was invited to Citron’s home for the celebration of the Zahran national holiday. As intimate as the party was, it was always a happy celebration, filled with great food, music, laughter, and sometimes even some cousins. The highlight of the celebration was of course, the dancing. Or according to Itaru, Citron’s dancing. 

The traditional Zahran dance was beautiful, but even more so when it was Citron, with his beautiful robes and golden jewellery, performing amidst the small crowd.

The happy yet solemn look on his friend’s face whenever he danced was an image precious to Itaru, one he kept safely locked within his heart, only ever daring his heart to trace imaginary lines on the memory of that face in the darkness of the night.

Citron always insisted the dance would be much more beautiful if watched on an elevated stage, where it could move the audience’s hearts as the lights only shone on the dancers.

“Yeah,” Itaru spoke softly, a genuine smile on his face, “I’d like you to be a dancer, too.”

Citron raised his eyebrows slightly for a second before smiling back, long eyelashes framing his beautiful eyes. 

Itaru could swear he could feel his heart on his throat.

They exited the shop empty-handed, not an unusual occurrence for the pair.

“Yay!” Citron cheered as they stepped outside, “At least next weekend I’ll have enough saved up to get a manga.”

“Nice!” Itaru smiled, “By the way, are you still planning on sleeping over at my place tonight? I mean, my sister will be there but…”

“Of course!” Citron nodded.

“Grea–“

“Oh! Hey, Citron!” A voice called out, both boys quickly turning to the direction it came from. A girl with shoulder-length hair dyed a light shade of brown waved her hand as she approached them. Itaru recognised her as one of Citron’s classmates, who he’d often seen chatting with his friend. Right behind her was Sakamoto, from Itaru’s class.

“Amane!” Citron cheered, skipping over to the girls, “Oh, what coincidence that we’ve met here!”

Itaru walked over, keeping his distance and doing his best to avoid eye contact with Sakamoto.

“Yeah! Are you guys window-shopping or something?”

“Yes!” Citron did a quick thumbs up.

“Cool!” Amane replied, “Hey, we’re on our way to meet up with a few of the guys! It’s karaoke night, baby! Wanna come?” 

Itaru was almost amazed at how well she could match Citron’s energy.  _ Almost _ .

“Oh, we’d love to,” Citron’s tone suddenly turned pitiful, “But unfortunately we have a few errands to run.”

Itaru knew that tone. Citron often used it to save Itaru from situations he didn’t want to be in. Usually Itaru wouldn’t mind it, but if there was one thing Itaru knew Citron loved even more than video games, it was karaoke.

Itaru inhaled slowly, “Actually,” He spoke slowly but clearly, putting on his best smile, “ _ I  _ am the one with errands to run. Citron, you can just go with them.”

“Itaru…” Citron whispered.

“Booo,” Amane crossed her arms, “But you two are dating now, right? It’d be fun if we could get to know you better too, Chigasaki.”

“Oh, yes,” Citron turned around to face Itaru fully, “I told Amane we’re dating, by the way!” He winked.

Before Itaru could speak, Sakamoto spoke up, “You are? Dating, I mean.”

“Yes, we are!” Citron wrapped his arm around Itaru’s in a fake display of affection.

Sakamoto nodded, her face unreadable as always, “Cool.” 

“So…?” Amane smiled at the boys expectantly, “Will both join us for karaoke?”

“I’m not much of a singer,” Itaru smiled, “But sure.”

Amane and Citron cheered in unison, Amane not missing a second to wrap her arm around Itaru’s other, and available, arm. Itaru nearly protested out loud at suddenly being pulled by both her and his fake-boyfriend towards the karaoke hall, but caught his tongue before any vicious words had the chance of leaving his lips.

Itaru knew it was a bad idea the moment he’d said yes to karaoke. He hated singing, and he hated being in the middle of uncomfortably loud crowds.

And as soon as they’d entered the karaoke bar and joined the rest of the group, consisting of, amongst others, his insufferable classmates, Itaru had instantly regretted going along with this. Even if it was for Citron’s fake dating plan.

Several of their classmates were singing already, laughing loudly with fizzy drinks in their hands.

Itaru chose to stay mostly silent in a corner, drinking cold  _ cola _ as he watched their classmates having the time of their lives singing along to popular songs, the majority of the guys tone-deaf and incapable of holding a note. Tonooka was there as well, yelling into the microphone. Itaru rolled his eyes, Tonooka always seemed to be competing for the title of loudest person ever.

Itaru knew Citron wasn’t particularly close to any of their classmates either, but he was much better than Itaru when it came to getting along and fitting in. Itaru kept his eyes on him that entire hour, watching how he purposefully sang off-tune and observing the way he made the girls laugh.

“Hey, hey!” At one point, one of Citron’s classmates, Itaru didn’t know her name, spoke up, “Itou, Amane, is it true you guys finally started dating?”

Amane blushed, giving a slightly panicked answer, “Oh– uhm, yeah!”

“What?! No fair, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I mean,” Amane laughed, “Is anyone surprised, really?” Some of the girls laughed. “Besides,” Amane continued, “If we wanna talk about interesting couples, Citron and Chigasaki are dating, y’know!”

_ Oh. _

Itaru suddenly felt extremely dizzy. The surprised (or were they appalled?) eyes of his classmates suddenly drilling holes into his skull.

“Huh?” Tonooka all of a sudden spoke, his voice echoing in what had now become an uncharacteristically quiet karaoke room, “Is that true?”

Itaru glanced over to where Citron was standing, but with his back turned to him, he couldn’t quite make what kind of face Citron was making. Was this what he had planned? Or maybe he was embarrassed? Surely he wouldn’t be embarrassed, right?  _ Why else would he have decided to fake date  _ me _? _

“Yes,” Citron finally said, the tone of his voice unreadable, “Yes, we are dating!” Itaru recognised that tone. Fake happy.

“Oho,” The girl whose name Itaru just couldn’t seem to remember spoke now, “How long has that been going on for?”

“We became official yesterday!”

“Wow, I mean, I knew you two were close, but I never saw this one coming,” Another of Citron’s classmates commented before quickly adding, “But it’s good. Congrats.”

“Yes, thank–“

“Have you guys kissed and stuff?” Tonooka asked with a hint of repulsion in his voice, his face clearly bewildered.

“Man,” Ogawa rolled his eyes, “No one wants to know that.”

“But I do!” Amane raised her hand.

Citron laughed nervously, “We haven’t yet.”

“What!” Amane and another classmate exclaimed in unison. Amane laughed, “That’s unacceptable. You guys gotta kiss!”

“Kiss, kiss, kiss!” The other girl – seriously, what  _ was _ her name? – chanted after Amane. Soon everyone in the room, save for Tonooka and oddly enough, Sakamoto, were chanting in unison, Ogawa even making a complete one-eighty turn from his earlier stance as he nudged Citron towards Itaru.

They glanced at each other, Citron giving Itaru an apologetic look as he stepped closer. Itaru gulped – hard. He could feel his palms sweating as the pressure around them rose, the chants only getting louder.

Citron opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. His eyes intense on Itaru’s own before turning around to the rest of the group. “Uhm, actually–“ Citron started, but he never quite got the chance to finish that sentence.

Itaru didn’t know what came over him. One moment he was staring at Citron, fearful that his best friend was going to come clean about his idiotic plan and embarrass himself in front of everyone, and then next thing he knew he was standing right in front of his best friend, hands cupping his face as he kissed him. 

His glasses bumped against Citron’s face as their lips met in a short, unglamorous kiss, both of their lips dry with nervousness. As if that wasn’t awkward enough, Itaru was fully aware that this was quite the public display, with people he wasn’t quite fond of  _ staring _ at them. 

Yet as much as all of that should make for an embarrassing first kiss, Itaru could  _ feel _ the way his blood rushed like crazy as his heart slammed up and down within his chest, his fingers that held Citron’s face quivering as their lips parted. 

If they were more than fake boyfriends, maybe that would’ve been the perfect timing to smile and stare lovingly into Citron’s eyes, but Itaru knew better than that, so instead he gulped forcibly as he withdrew as quickly as he could back to the corner of the room that he had made his, his now very wobbly legs barely carrying him.

“Woo!” Some of the girls cheered behind him, while Itaru was sure he heard one of the boys say “Gross” out loud, but that was all mere background noise to him as he sunk down into the chair, the realisation of what he had just done in front of his classmates hitting him like a sudden strike of thunder.

Itaru’s first instinct was to apologise, but being surrounded by classmates who now definitely believed their deceitful act made it difficult to find the right time to do so. Instead, Itaru spent the rest of the evening in his little corner, with some of the girls occasionally making conversation with him. Citron on the other hand sung his heart out.

The walk home was quieter than Itaru would have liked, the neighbourhoods desolate and void of people, the cold too savage and the night too dark for anyone to want to be outside at such a late hour.

“My sister is definitely gonna ask questions.” Itaru said, trying to fill the silence once they finally got to his house.

Citron’s face had been pensive since they’d left the karaoke bar and parted with the group, “It’s Saturday tomorrow,” A strained smile on his face, “So I’m sure she won’t be mad you’re home this late, right?”

“We’ll see,” Itaru scoffed, leaning on the fence, “She’s always all up in my business, though.”

“She’s a loving older sister.” Citron smiled.

“Speaking of the devil…” Itaru said as he heard the door to his house click open, his sister stepping outside.

“Where have you two been – Oh!” She said as she zipped her jacket up to her neck, “It’s seriously freezing out here.”

“We joined a few classmates on a round of karaoke!” Citron replied as he waved his hand in a greeting motion.

Itaru’s sister waved back, “Really? Itaru too?”

“What?” Itaru smiled cheekily, “You don’t think I like to go with my friends to karaoke sometimes?”

“Your only friend is Citron.”

“...Touché.”

“Anyway,” His sister stepped back inside, “Get inside before you catch a cold. Citron, you’re staying over tonight, right?”

“Indeed I am!” Citron opened the small front gate to the house, “Pardon the intrusion!” He hummed as he entered the house.

“Oh, by the way,” Itaru’s sister spoke as she watched the boys hang their coats on the entryway, “I’m also having one of my friends over tonight, so I’ll be borrowing the futon.”

“Yes, that’s okay,” Citron answered, his usual smile back at last, “Itaru and I can share a bed, just like old times!”

“Sweet,” She waved her hand as she walked back to the living room, “Thanks, guys.”

Once upstairs they wasted no time on changing out of their grey uniforms and into their more comfortable pyjamas. Citron’s pyjamas were of a delicate Zahran fabric, the paisley pattern had several shades of blues and greens on it, and were far more elegant than Itaru’s own black  _ Street Fighter  _ t-shirt he chose to wear to sleep.

“ _ Ultimate Weapon 2 _ ?” Itaru held up the disc of the game expectantly, putting it into the cartridge of his Playstation as soon as Citron cheered in agreement.

“I wanna shoot some enemies!” Citron laughed as he took hold of his assigned joystick, plopping down on his assigned chair.

“You know, it’s almost like you live here.” Itaru smiled, noting that Citron had spent enough time in his house where at this point he even had a toothbrush in the bathroom.

Citron hummed, “Itaru’s room is my second home, after all.”

Itaru didn’t know how to respond, so he stayed quiet instead. There were a lot of things he could say if he wasn’t a coward, but alas rejection is not a pretty thing. And goodness knows the last thing Itaru wanted was to open  _ that _ door when merely two hours earlier they’d kissed. In front of their classmates. Itaru had kissed his best friend. On the mouth. With his mouth.

Itaru shook his head,  _ Now’s not the time for that! Damn it, why  _ did _ I open that door?! _

He selected  _ New Game _ on the screen in front of him, hoping a few hours of shooting evil video game men would help him forget the karaoke incident had ever happened.

They spent several hours in Itaru’s dark room, playing, laughing, competing. Eventually the pair switched to playing  _ KniRoun _ , spending the next hour or so clearing a few missions together.

After an hour or so, Citron got up from his chair, yawning loudly as he stretched his limbs, “What time is it?”

Itaru looked at the time on the bright screen of his phone, “Almost 4am.”

“Oh, it’s time for this guy to go to bed, then.” Citron pointed at himself. Itaru nodded as he watched Citron from the corner of his eye climb onto his bed, scooting as close to the wall as was physically possible to leave enough room for Itaru. “Are you coming?” Citron asked rather sheepishly.

_ No. Say no.  _

“Yeah.”

_ Damn it. _

Itaru wanted to put off having to share his bed with the friend he'd kissed only mere hours earlier, but his body moved on its own as his hands moved the black mouse beneath his grip, finding and clicking on the  _ Shut Down _ button on the screen in front of him. His legs trembled as he closed the gap between him and his bed, where Citron laid on his side, tiny smile on his face as he watched him.

“Promise not to kick me off the bed?”

Citron’s smile turned cheeky, “No promises.” 

Itaru smiled back before quietly laying down next to Citron, his simple bed not allowing much room for space between them.

He closed his eyes, silently begging to be carried to sleep  _ asap _ . But no matter how hard he tried, and no matter how many seconds passed, his mind wouldn’t stop replaying the scene at the karaoke bar. He swore he could still feel the sensation of Citron’s dry lips on his. Itaru turned his head slowly to look at his friend, who, although he had shut his eyes, was clearly still awake, too.

Itaru furrowed his brows before taking a deep breath, “Citron.” He mumbled. 

Citron opened his pretty eyes slowly, “Hm?”

_ I’m sorry for kissing you. _ How hard could it be to say those five words? Maybe it would have been easier if his heart didn’t ache because he knew he  _ had  _ to say those words. He was sorry, he really was. But having to for once face his own bleak reality where he had unrequited feelings for the very best friend he was now fake dating and they’d held hands  _ and stuff… _ That was pretty painful. He opened his mouth, knowing that he’d left Citron hanging long enough. As his lips parted his breathing was cut short by the embarrassing realisation that his lips were trembling. He shut his mouth.

He’d accepted his demise at the hands of awkward silence when Citron spoke up all of a sudden, his voice but a whisper, “Itaru, that was your first kiss…”

Itaru gulped – hard. He kept his eyes glued on the ceiling as he nodded slowly, not brave enough to face Citron.

“I’m sorry.” 

Silence filled the room once more as Citron’s apology sunk heavy within Itaru’s tight chest. He worked up the courage to finally turn his head to face Citron who was still laying on his side, eyes already on Itaru. 

“It’s okay,” Itaru’s words escaped his lips as in on a trance, “…I didn’t mind it.”

Citron hummed quietly, “Me neither.”

Before Itaru could process what his friend had just said, Citron extended his delicate arms, reaching for Itaru’s face, and cupping it gently between his hands. He scooted closer to him, his eyelashes long and pretty as he looked down to Itaru’s lips as he whispered, “May I…?”

Itaru could feel Citron’s breaths on his skin, the need to be close far stronger than the confusion within him, and so he nodded, moving his hand to hold Citron’s where it so tenderly cupped his cheek.

The kiss, once they’s closed the small gap between them, was nothing like it had been earlier that evening. As hard as Itaru’s heart beat inside his chest, this kiss was slow and steady, the room reverent and quiet as the only sound emitted came from the pair of boys on the bed.

Citron’s lips were tender as he kissed him again, and again, and again, nibbling on his lower lip for a few seconds, and for a moment Itaru was tempted to break off the kiss only so he could ask where in the world he’d learnt to do that. Instead he placed his hand on Citron’s slim waist, pulling him closer as their lips shared short and sweet kisses. Slowly, Citron climbed on top of Itaru, making sure not to part their lips even for a moment as he straddled him.

Maybe for that one night, no explanations were needed.

Ah, Monday mornings. Or as Itaru liked to call them, Hell on Earth. 

It was bad enough that it was the beginning of yet another five days of having to wake up at an ungodly hour to suffer through school, classmates, and  _ responsibility _ after the two God-sent days known as Saturday and Sunday, but Mondays were also the day he had P.E.

_ Kill me now,  _ Itaru thought to himself as he found his desk, the chatter from his classmates around him making him dizzy. When Tonooka entered the classroom, Itaru fished one of his writing blocks from his bag, feigning busy and unbothered by his annoying presence.

Once the bell rang, the rest of his classmates soon found their desks, the majority of them had enough respect for Fujitaka sensei to settle down as soon as he entered the classroom, behaving as orderly as a bunch of high schoolers possibly could behave on a Monday morning.

As soon as their teacher started with the announcements (something about the school festival at the end of the week), Itaru’s thoughts trailed off to far more important matters – Citron.

Thinking back to Saturday morning, he realised things hadn’t gone as awkwardly as he would have expected them to. They’d woken up thanks to Citron’s very loud alarm, and after Citron had climbed on top of him and out of the bed to turn it off, he’d flashed the most beautiful smile accompanied with the most cheerful “Good morning!”, and suddenly everything had felt pretty okay.

Neither had talked about what had happened the night before, Itaru figured they’d probably have a somewhat lengthy conversation about that any day now… just not on a Monday morning.

Citron had spent most of the walk to school trying to hype Itaru up for the upcoming school festival, promising him there’d be many surprises and fun events he “absolutely can’t miss!”. Itaru begged to differ, but Citron’s warm hand on his own was enough to soften his heart and finally promise Citron that he’d go. Even if just for thirty minutes.

“Yay!” Citron had cheered at Itaru’s promise, “So that means you’ll also help with the final preparations this week?”

Itaru had laughed, “Nope.” 

“I’m looking forward to seeing you during lunch break, then. We’ll be decorating the theatre hall!”

Itaru had laughed Citron’s cheeky words off, as much as he wanted to help (which wasn’t much at all), he had a  _ Candy Crush _ level to beat during lunch break.

Lunch time eventually came, leaving the classroom fairly empty as most students left to pass the time with their friends. Itaru fished his phone from his bag, making sure it was on silent as he held it on his lap, playing quietly yet determinedly, making sure no one could see the screen of his phone. Not that there were anyone on the desks next to him at this point of lunch break.

The next ten minutes he spent silently cursing at his phone, as much as he’d wanted to beat that damned level his mind wasn’t quite present as he repeatedly remembered the feeling of Citron’s soft lips on his.

“Damn it!” He stomped his foot as he lost once more, now having to wait for his lives to refill. 

“You okay, Chigasaki?” A voice called from somewhere in the classroom. Itaru didn’t waste a second on turning his phone’s screen off, tossing the device back into his bag. He hadn’t realised people had stepped back into the classroom once more, but he quickly recognised the voice as that of Amane’s.

He looked up, smiling, “Yeah, I’m all good.”

Citron’s classmate had entered the classroom with Sakamoto and a few other girls, which Itaru took as a sign to take his leave and maybe for once go help Citron with the festival…  _ stuff _ . It was either that or having to suffer through Amane’s sudden over-friendliness with him.

The school’s theatre hall was old, the floor squeaking underneath Itaru’s steps as he walked towards the stage. Around a dozen of students were in the midst of running back and forth, setting up various decorations of all colours. Itaru instantly recognised a certain fabric with beautiful patterns and colours – he’d seen it in the Zahran festivities he’d often been invited to. Citron’s parents must have given Citron permission to lend it to the school for this occasion. 

Itaru climbed the stage, inelegantly hitting his knee on the way up. He awkwardly rubbed his knee as his eyes scanned the entire stage for his best friend, for a second locking eyes with a girl from Citron’s class who seemed busy discussing something with another boy. He averted his gaze immediately, but to no avail, the girl quickly smiled and walked up to him. 

“Are you looking for something?” She tilted her head.

“Someone,” Itaru corrected her swiftly, feeling a bit embarrassed, “You’re Tachibana, right?” The girl nodded, and Itaru continued, “Is Citron around?”

Tachibana laughed heartily, “Citron is quite popular, it seems. Someone else came looking for him earlier, too. If you wait here I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

“Ah, it’s fine. Thanks for the help.” He smiled as politely as he could manage before making a straight beeline for the exit. No way he was going to awkwardly wait in the middle of the stage with a swarm of people eyeing him up and down because he looked oh-so-out-of-place amidst the theatre geeks. He may be a geek but at least he wasn’t a  _ theatre _ geek.  _ Nerds _ .

When the final bell finally rang and Monday came to a close, Itaru sighed in relief, his fingers itching to hold his favourite joystick as soon as he got home.

Of course, the walk home was a treat in its own right, too, Itaru was almost getting used to interlacing fingers with his fake boyfriend. The 20 minute walk back home felt excruciatingly short once they arrived to Citron’s house, Citron entering and closing the gate behind him before turning around and leaning on it to resume his chat with Itaru, clearly no intentions of going inside just yet.

“You should come over tonight.” Itaru pushed his glasses up, smiling softly. He was fully aware of how suggestive the words sounded as they rolled down his tongue, but  _ whatever _ . He could panic over his sudden boost in confidence and flirting later. 

Citron smiled as he leaned slightly closer to Itaru, “Really?”

Itaru nodded, the smile on his face turning into a small smirk.

“Oh!” Citron suddenly blinked in realisation, catching Itaru by surprise, “I can’t, Itaru, sorry. I just remembered I’ve got plans tonight.”

“Ah, I see…” Itaru didn’t bother hiding the disappointment in his voice, “What kinda plans?”

“Hm… Oh, yes, my parents are working all day today so I have to cook tonight!”

“Cool, cool…” Itaru’s foot played with a small rock on the ground, “What are you gonna coo–”

“Citron!” A voice called as the front door slammed open, Citron’s little brother jumping outside to meet the pair.

“Oh! Tangerine!” Citron’s tone changed instantly, he always sounded more composed when he spoke with his brothers, “You shouldn’t be out here, you could catch a cold!”

“Hi, Itaru!” The younger boy beamed, ignoring his brother’s warning.

“Hi,” Itaru smiled back, “You know, your brother’s right, it’s really cold today.”

“Yeah, yeah. I just wanted to say hi, is all.” 

Tangerine, the sweeter one of Citron’s younger brothers, shared his older brother’s pretty looks and jolly personality. He was also quite attached to the pair, resulting in him going through his own video game phase, but he lacked the talent and patience that the older boys possessed.

“C’mon, let’s go inside.” Citron smiled to his brother gently, tugging him along to the door Tangerine had left opened, but not before stealing a knowing glance towards Itaru’s direction. Itaru wasn’t an inherently romantic person, but if he had to describe the look Citron’s eyes gave him at that moment he’d say it was as sweet as honey. Possibly even as sweet as  _ Samus _ ’ honey coloured  _ Power Suit _ .

Itaru couldn’t help the tug on the corners of his lips as he smiled coyly, “Farewell,  _ habibi _ .” 

Citron looked taken aback for a second before winking to his friend. Itaru’s heart skipped a beat. Maybe two.

Before turning around to leave, he clenched his fists three, four, five times, his hands a little too clammy for his own taste. Such was the power of Citron’s wink. He could still hear Tangerine loudly blabbering about everything and anything behind him. Itaru could almost picture Citron’s cheeky smile as he listened to his younger brother talk his ears off. Citron was rarely impatient with him. Itaru smiled at the thought.

He barely managed to take his first step away from Citron’s house when he heard Tangerine exclaim rather excitingly, “Oh, and mum is making sukiyaki tonight!” 

Itaru halted. His brows furrowed as he turned around again, “Wait, Citron, didn’t you just tell me y–”

The door clicked shut.

Itaru stood awkwardly still outside his friend’s house for a good minute, his brain racing in confusion.The question  _ Did Citron lie to me?! _ repeatedly running through his mind. He trudged home absentmindedly, confused. He had considered running back to Citron’s house to ask for clarification, but he was already merely fifteen steps away from his own house, and going back  _ now  _ seemed incredibly pathetic.

He spent a few seconds rummaging through the kitchen, his mum having left a message in the fridge letting him know both her and his dad would be home late. After deciding that making an actual meal only for himself was too much work, he ordered delivery pizza, silently reassuring himself that his monthly allowance could take a few hits once in a while.

The rest of the evening was spent in a dark, silent house, the only sound echoing down the hall that of  _ Lara Croft _ as he made his way through a jungle of dangers and adventures.

Itaru never quite realised how fast time flew whenever he engrossed himself in a game. His mum had entered his room sometime around eleven pm to say  _ good night _ , Itaru absentmindedly responding with the same words. He’d told himself he’d only play for twenty more minutes after that, just a little bit longer until he could clear the current mission.

Except when he finally finished and he glanced at the bright screen of his phone, it was one in the morning.

“Oops.” Itaru smiled to himself unapologetically.

He shuffled lazily to the bathroom, brushing his teeth as he tried again to clear that impossible  _ Candy Crush _ level. After having wasted his five lives he clutched his device angrily, suddenly very tempted to throw it down the toilet. Not that it’d fit down the drain. 

But before he could calm himself down, his phone buzzed, and he read the notification that had popped unto his screen.

_ You awake? _ Followed by a kaomoji. Itaru smiled at Citron’s message, heading back to his room slowly as he typed and sent his reply.

His phone buzzed again, Citron was always quick to text.

_ Can I call you?  _ Read the message, followed by yet another cute kaomoji.

Itaru didn’t waste a second on pressing the  _ Call _ button himself, throwing his heavy body unto his bed as he waited for Citron to pick up.

“ _ Hello? _ ” Citron’s eager voice almost a whisper from the other side of the line.

“Hi,” Itaru turned to lay on his back, “What’s up?”

“ _ I just wanted to hear my boyfriend’s voice. _ ” Citron joked, his voice still quiet, “ _ I have to keep it down, by the way. Everyone’s asleep _ .”

“Same.” Itaru chuckled before falling silent. There were so many things weighing on his mind in moments like this. Even when he played video games, it was impossible to shake away the memory of their kiss, of the hand-holding, of Citron calling him his boyfriend. Part of him wished they could go on like this forever, yet another part of him, the coward within, the boy scared of rejection, he could do nothing but silently beg that this little act would end soon, that they could go back to pretending the past week had never happened.

But instead of speaking up – goodness knows he never did, he let out a calculated scoff, acting nonchalant was what he did best, “It’s late, let’s go to sleep.”

“ _ Okay, _ ” Citron hummed, a brief pause before speaking gently, lovingly even, “ _ Itaru? _ ”

“Hm?”

“ _ …No, nothing. I need to talk to you about something, okay? But not now. _ ”

“...‘Kay.”

It was safe to say Itaru didn’t get much sleep that night. Whatever it was that Citron wanted to talk to him about, he was fairly certain it wasn’t going to be a pretty conversation to have.  _ Maybe he’ll tell me I’m a horrible kisser… _ Itaru played with the thought for a while, the thought terrifying enough to lead him to practice the perfect nonchalant response to that accusation for at least an hour while trying to clear the impossible  _ Candy Crush _ level. Which he didn’t.

The next morning he had awoken groggy, his limbs tense, Citron’s words still racing through his mind. It really didn’t take much to convince Itaru to skip school, and the combination of these three things seemed to be more than enough to push him into making that decision.  _ Self care. _ He reassured himself. 

And as much as he told himself he wouldn’t chicken out the next day, as much as he reassured Citron through text that it was but a mild fever and that surely he’d be back in school the next day, somewhere in the back of his mind he knew, he just  _ knew _ – that that was a lie.

And so the next day came, and the one after that one too, and Itaru spent his days holed up in his room, eating leftovers from dinner and increasingly ignoring people’s messages. Well, Citron’s. No one else messaged him.

He had more or less lost track of the few days he’d been skipping school, no matter the amount of times he’d played the game,  _ Kniroun’s _ flawless gameplay and  _ Lancelot _ ’s moving story never failed to draw him into an adventurous land with no classmates, no school, and certainly no responsibilities. A land so magical, that as soon as Itaru submerged himself in it, he suddenly wasn’t Itaru Chigasaki anymore. He wasn’t sure who he was, maybe he was  _ Lancelot _ , or maybe someone just akin to the hero, either way – damn it did it feel good to forget and leave behind the pitiful husk of the boy known as Itaru Chigasaki.

He was in the middle of running through a vast, green field with  _ Gwen the fairy _ by his side, when the doorbell rang once. Twice. In an instance, Itaru anxiously tossed his joystick away, shutting his laptop down reflexively. He glanced at his phone, and for the first time in several days, he was brought back down to reality with some sort of notion of time and space. It was Thursday apparently, almost five pm.

_ Weird, I thought she’d come tomorrow… _ Itaru thought to himself as he shuffled down the stairs, trying to remember his sister’s university schedule. He was pretty sure she had classes until evening on Thursdays, but then again – as much as she wouldn’t admit it, he knew how homesick she had been lately.  _ Heh, maybe we’re both skipping class.  _ Itaru entertained the thought for a brief moment as he opened the door slowly, peeking through the small gap. A familiar blonde, nearly silver-haired individual, grinning and flashing Itaru’s favourite smile in the whole wide world, stood on the other side of the door.

“Can I come in?” Citron tilted his head playfully to the side, and Itaru couldn’t help but smile a little as he let his friend in. 

Itaru watched in silence as his friend took his outerwear off, eventually leading him back up to his messy room. Itaru shoved some socks away, accidentally knocking down two empty cans of  _ cola _ , before laying down on his bed. He hadn’t forgotten he was supposed to be pretending to be sick.

Citron sat down on what he usually teasingly called Itaru’s throne, his black gamer chair with small wheels attached at the bottom. He spun around slowly a couple of times, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

Unable to stomach the unsettling tension that was building up in the room, Itaru grabbed his phone, opening the first app his thumb could find. He tapped on the screen nervously as he waited for the game to load, “…Tomorrow’s the festival, huh? How’s the preparation going?”

Citron finally looked at him, “Oh, we’re pretty much all done!” 

Itaru hummed in response, keeping his eyes locked on his phone. The game had finished loading, but Itaru couldn’t bring himself to click on  _ New Game _ .

“Itaru,” Citron spoke his name worriedly, the tender tone in his voice enough to melt Itaru’s heart, “Are you really sick?”

Itaru fake coughed, “I think the extreme weather got to me.”

Citron looked pensive for a moment before slowly getting up, moving towards where Itaru laid on his bed. He sat down next to him, carefully brushing a few of Itaru’s hair strands away from his face, “Do you think you’ll be able to make it to the festival tomorrow?”

“Doubt it,” Itaru fake coughed again, “I’ve got a feeling this fever is gonna last me all weekend.”

“Oh…” Citron’s shoulders sank, and for a second Itaru felt bad for lying to his friend. He shoved the uncomfortable feeling aside by finally tapping on the  _ New Game  _ button. 

Citron continued, fighting against the game for Itaru’s attention, “I prepared a surprise for you, so I really hope you can make it.”

The nearly painful tone in Citron’s voice was enough to make Itaru feel guiltier, and before the new game had a chance to load, he swiped the app away before shoving his phone beneath his pillow.

He stayed silent for a few seconds, choosing his next words carefully, “I’ll try to be there. Just haven’t felt so good lately.”

Citron narrowed his eyes, eyeing him from top to bottom, “Wanna talk about it?”

Itaru shook his head, but Citron only scooched closer, “Anything I can do to make you feel better?”

Itaru smirked unwillingly, his teasing words escaping his lips a second before Itaru could catch them, “We’re boyfriends, right? You could kiss me.”

Citron smiled, a princely and warm look on his face as he smoothly closed the gap between their lips. Itaru’s eyes widened as his best friend’s lips lingered on his for… a few seconds? A minute? Itaru wasn’t sure, time seemed to melt away, his body stiff but his heart racing faster than a motorbike on 150cc mode on  _ Mario Kart Wii _ which he may or may not have played obsessively with Citron and Tangerine when the game had just been released. Citron pulled away slowly, his eyes gentle as he looked at him, “Fake boyfriends.” Citron corrected him.

Before Itaru could react, Citron stood up abruptly, a confident smile painted on his face as he hummed, “See you tomorrow, okay?” 

It was unfair, it really was. One short kiss, and Citron had him wrapped right around his finger. As soon as his fake boyfriend had left, Itaru knew he wouldn’t miss the festival. He couldn’t – he knew how much the event meant for Citron.

The school grounds had a different air to them when decorated by colourful banners, several stands lined up along the entrance promoting games and selling snacks. Itaru avoided eye contact with any classmate he passed, nervously fiddling with his phone between his cold hands as he determinedly made his way to the theatre hall.

He wasn’t sure what to expect, but Citron had messaged him earlier with clear instructions to be there at three pm sharp.

The theatre, now fully decorated and filled with chairs (most of which were occupied already), had a different ambience to it than usual, the Zahran fabrics which Itaru instantly recognised around the large room probably the reason why the old theatre hall suddenly looked  _ welcoming _ . That was a first.

He quickly found an empty seat close to the back row, awkwardly squeezing his lanky body between two eager set of families who were clearly anticipating whatever this show was about to become. 

He sent a quick message to Citron to let him know he’d made it in time, anxiously twiddling with his phone as he waited for the show to start, battling the temptation to open one of the many games he had installed on his device to pass the time.

Soon enough the lights dimmed, and the long curtains onstage parted unhurriedly as music filled the room. It was a familiar tune, and Itaru’s back arched up as soon as the song hit his eardrums. He could recognise folklore music from Zahra from miles away.

He moved his head expectantly, suddenly regretting his untimely decision of taking a seat so far in the back. But as soon as the curtains had fully parted and the lights shone on the singular individual onstage, Itaru’s hands tensed, his beautiful friend dressed in traditional Zahran garments, attracting everyone’s attention with a simple smile and sway of his hands.

Even from that distance, Itaru was drawn in by Citron’s enchanting dance. He couldn’t explain it, but even with those hundred people sitting around him, enjoying the very same performance that he was, he knew this dance was for him. It was something only for Citron and Itaru both.

Citron moved beautifully to the rhythm, a ceremonious smile painted across his delicate face. Golden lights danced around him, and together with the Zahran tune, the piece was complete. Itaru wished it had lasted longer, the performance ended as quickly as it had started, and Citron bowed courteously before disappearing backstage.

As the audience erupted into an awed, almost reverent, applause, Itaru stood up, stumbling across legs and feet as he rushed outside, further down the hall, and into the door that he knew led backstage.

He didn’t know what he was doing, his body acting on pure impulse, the only thing he knew for certain was that every fibre, every molecule of his body, ached to  _ see _ Citron.

He rushed backstage, the atmosphere far more chaotic there than on the other side of the curtain, the audience having fallen silent after the applause, clearly touched by Citron’s impactful performance.

It didn’t take long to find Citron, who was in the middle of receiving endless praise by Tachibana. His smile grew wider as soon as he spotted Itaru approaching him. Itaru’s heart clenched inside his chest.

“Citron…” He spoke softly, suddenly incredibly aware that he had barged into what probably was supposed to be treated as unauthorised area. Citron extended his arms, holding them wide open in front of his friend, and with that, Tachibana quietly took her leave, cheeky smile on her face as she walked away from the pair.

Itaru waited for a few moments, making sure no one around them was paying any particular attention to them, before melting into Citron’s welcoming arms, the embrace tender.

“That was dedicated to you. I’ve been secretly preparing this performance for weeks.” He heard his friend confess, and Itaru could do nothing but nod aggressively, because he  _ knew _ . And he should’ve known.

And in the solace of Citron’s arms and consoling words, he finally let go as silent tears poured down his face.

“It’s okay,” Citron hummed quietly, holding Itaru’s head between his pretty hands, “You’re okay.”

Itaru nodded fervently again, and before he could feel embarrassed over the tears trickling down his cheek, Citron gently removed his glasses from his face, placing his lips gently on one of the tears, and kissing it away. He then kissed another one on his chin, then yet another one, and then the next. And when Itaru closed his still tear filled eyes, Citron kissed his eyelids. First the left, then the right. The gesture was absurdly sweet, and Itaru chuckled as he wiped the remaining tears away with his sleeve.

“Citron,” Itaru took a tiny step back, the radiance of Citron’s pure smile nearly blinding, “You… you are light. And sometimes, you shine so brightly–”

“Oh!” Citron cut him off excitedly, “Good Hunter x Hunter 2011 episode 85 reference!”

“Hey, good catch.” Itaru smiled, pointing finger guns at his friend. Before he could choose his next words, Citron spoke, his voice charming.

“Itaru, do you like me?”

Itaru froze for a second. He nodded, no reason to hide it any longer, surely after his behaviour this past week Citron must’ve realised. After all, he knew his friend was far more observant than he let on.

Citron hummed, “I like you too.”

Itaru’s eyes widened, his cheeks suddenly tinted rosey. He wanted to say something, anything, to his friend's sudden confession, maybe even apologise for nearly not making it to the festival, and more importantly, Citron's performance, which he had so sweetly prepared for him. He opened his mouth, but closed it again as soon as he saw Citron's coy smile.

"What is it?" Itaru asked, not so much in a demanding tone as much as it was a curious one.

“So, maybe,” Citron continued with that coy smile on his face, “Wanna break up with your fake boyfriend and date me instead?”

Itaru smiled, the intake of breath as he took a step closer to Citron felt as fulfilling as a 1v1 victory. He tilted Citron’s face towards his and closed the small gap between their lips.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my love letter to citoita, I worked on this beast for months!  
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!  
> You can find me on twitter [@itarusgf](https://twitter.com/itarusgf)!  
> (And kudos to you if you know which song the title is from!)


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